Trains
by DireSphinx
Summary: Why, for the love of God, am I tied to these train tracks? Secret Santa for you-know-not-my-name. What? You mean Christmas isn't in January? Oh fudgemonkey.


_You-know-not-my-name, this is for you. Yes, it is late. My parents didn't tell me their computer broke when they came to drag me to their place the day after my final final. And it's kinda hard to connect to the internet without a computer. Sorry anyways._

_Not quite sure if this was what you had in mind, but I decided it had to be humorous. Christmas is not the time for Mistakes-type angst, which story idea number one was begging to be. Story idea number two had promise, but I sorely lack knowledge on the western front. And Saguru was hogging all the spotlight anyway. So thus story idea number three won out. Here's hoping third time's a charm..._

_**Prompt**: Trains. Kaito and Aoko must meet around or on trains. And Kaito must wear a beret._

_

* * *

_

"Kaito, I've got a question for you. No wait, let me rephrase that. I have a million questions for you, but I'll settle for asking just one. Why, for the love of God, am I tied to these train tracks?" Looking up from her trussed position, she sends a withering glare in Kaito's direction.

Kaito merely smirks under the brim of his black beret. "You are tied to these train tracks because you are the damsel in distress." Like that explains anything.

"Damsel in distress? Kaito, when have I ever been a damsel in distress?"

Kaito blinks in confusion. "Kaito? Who is this Kaito you speak of? My name, mademoiselle, is Jacque Pierre Bonapart the III. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." He offers her his hand, then takes it back realizing she cannot shake it what with the ropes and all.

She raises one eyebrow. It took her forever to learn how. Good thing to know all that effort wasn't wasted. "Jacque Pierre Bonapart the III? Explains the beret. But what's with the mustache?"

Twirling said curly mustache, Kaito replies. "All the best villains have a tacky mustache."

Aoko rolls her eyes. "You are SO weird."

"Oui."

"Kaito, not to spoil your little game, but I've got a turkey to put in the oven and a house to decorate before eight. Can we do this little charade some other time?" She gives him the pleading eyes. Unfortunately for her, they don't work. In fact, they seem to act as an affront to the villain wannabe. He glares down at the girl.

"Charade? You think this is some sort of game? Mon Cheri, this is a matter of life and death! You, mademoiselle, are my captive and bargaining chip."

"Captive? Bargaining chip? What are you ON?"

He waves her questions aside as he speaks. "Christmas cheer, but that is irrelevant. What is relevant are the unreasonable demands placed upon me and my own. Demands of banishment from culinary quarters and high fructose corn syrup creations! Abolishment of monetary funds if I so much as whisper words of confectionary bliss! Tis an outrage, and I will not stand for it any longer! The madness must stop!" His voice is building through the whole speech, until at the end he is pumping his fist into the air with every declaration. He thinks it to be very imposing. Aoko thinks he looks like a nut. She mutters under her breath, but Kaito catches the words regardless.

"Gods, I am never letting you near eggnog again." Speaking louder, she stares Kaito straight in the eyes.

"So, let me get this straight: You've been kicked out of the kitchen, deprived of candy, and threatened with the loss of your allowance if you so much as mention the c-word?"

He nods vigorously.

"And your response to all this is to kidnap me and tie me to these train tracks?"

Even more vigorous nodding. Aoko sighs.

"Kaito, this has got to be the most deranged idea you've ever come up with, and that's saying something."

Kaito pouts. "Mademoiselle, how many times must I tell you? The name is not Kaito, it is Jacque Pierre Bonapart the III. And this idea is not deranged, it is just beyond the scope of your frail feeble female wiles to comprehend the utter brilliance that is my scheme!" He pauses for a moment to consider the prudence of his next words. "Deranged was the chocolate caterpillar shower. Hakuba stole my sugar. I am in no way responsible for my actions under sugar deprivation."

"Oh, and what does this constitute?"

He smiles the smile of the slightly deranged. "Did you know real eggnog has rum? And sugar?"

Aoko's eyes widen. "Oh good Lord, you're drunk and hyper."

"Yep." If Kaito's smile was any wider, his head would fall off.

"Now Kaito…"

"Jacque Pierre Bonapart the III!"

"Okay, Jacque…"

"Better mademoiselle, better. But your pronunciation is all wrong. It's Jacque - one syllable, with stress on the Ja. Try it again please, and do say it like the French in Paris."

She grits her teeth. "Kaito, when I get out of these ropes, you're going to wish you'd never given me a weapon. There's a million and one things a girl can do with a rope. Strangle someone, whip them, flay them, tie a slipknot around a certain baka's neck…the possibilities are endless…"

Kaito rubs his hands together in glee. "Ooh, the mademoiselle is a fiery sort! A pity you have to die."

"Quit calling me mademoiselle!" she yells to his smirking face. "You know perfectly well that my name is Aoko. A-O-KO. Aoko Nakamori, we've been best friends for years. Why, I don't know. When you pull stunts like this I really have to wonder…"

"You're not disturbed by the thought of your imminent demise?"

Aoko raises her eyebrows. "Imminent demise? Kaito, these are _toy_ train tracks you've tied me to. I'm hardly in fear for my life. What I find disturbing is that mustache. It looks like you tore it off the face of a cheesy western villain. You didn't, did you?" Though it wouldn't surprise her…

"I can neither confirm nor deny those allegations considering that I am Jacque Pierre Bonapart the III."

_Sigh. Why do I try?_ "Okay, Jacque Pierre Bonapart the III, how do you plan to kill me with a toy train?"

"Trains. Plural. You can't kill anyone with one toy train. But with five now, that's a whole other story."

"Oh no, five toy trains. I'm doomed. _Doomed._ Nothing can save me now," Aoko cries out in woe-is-me dramatic flare.

Kaito frowns. "Me thinks the Lady is mocking me."

"Ya think?"

"Well now, that won't do. Jacque Pierre Bonapart the III does not suffer criticism lightly. You, my dear, will have to be dealt with."

*Kaito whistles.*

Aoko blinks. "Kaito, why did you whistle?"

-silence-

"Okay Jacque, why did you whistle?"

-ignoring silence-

"You're actually going to make me say it? You are, aren't you?" Aoko sighs. "Fine. Jacque Pierre Bonapart the III, why did you whistle?"

He smiles with manic glee. "To start the cogs in the machines of your destruction!"

"Huh?"

"The terrible, tyrannical, torturous trains of your demise are whistle activated."

"Whistle activated? _Whistle_ activated?" There's a touch of incredulity to her voice.

Kaito pouts. "What's wrong with whistling?"

Aoko can only shake her head. "Only you Kaito, only you."

"It's –"

"Jacque Pierre Bonapart the III. Yes, I know. So, the trains are on their way?"

"The terrible tyrannical torturous trains? Oui, that they are."

"Someone gave you a thesaurus for Christmas, didn't they?" Kaito's eyes drift off to the right. _Bingo. Bet its Hakuba._ But, back to the matter at hand. "So, whistle activated?"

Kaito lets out an exasperated sigh of his own. "For the third time yes, the trains are whistle activated."

A manic smile all her own blooms across Aoko's face. "Good."

"Good?" Aoko nods her head. "Why is that good?"

*Aoko whistles. The trains stop.*

Kaito's jaw drops. "Hey, no fair! You're not supposed to stop my terrible tyrannical torturous trains! Where'd you learn to whistle?"

She gives him a Look. "Kaito, I taught you."

He stops. "Oh."

"Remember now?"

He sheepishly smiles, then shrugs it off. "Well, no matter. I can just whistle again."

*Kaito whistles. Trains start back up.*

*Aoko whistles again. Trains stop.*

Kaito glares down at Aoko. "Stop that!"

"Make me."

Small poof, and a red and green poinsettia gag appears over Aoko's mouth. She glares at Kaito and his chinsy beret. He merely gives her a knowing look.

"You did challenge me. "Make me" you said. You know how I am with statements like that. You of all people should know better by now."

Aoko just hangs her head. She really should know better by now. Darn mouth always running off before she can think otherwise. Satisfied that Aoko has no further comments to make, Kaito goes back into his villainous spiel.

"So, now that the peanut gallery has been silence – that would be you mademoiselle – where was I? Oh yes, your imminent demise. I could go off on a long tangent about my motives and reasons why, how the tragic death of my goldfish Jumpy and the fact that I was never hugged enough as a child led me down this dark and dreary path of despair from which there is no salvation, but knowing my luck, you'd chew through the gag before I finished the tale of how Jumpy's attempt on my life lead to my fear of all things scaly and swimmy. It happens to all the good villains. So therefore, I'll make this short and sweet. Goodbye mon cheri. It was a pleasure partaking of your company. Please, no hard feelings?"

Kaito glances down at his captive. Aoko rolls her eyes. Kaito childishly pouts to disguise the grin threatening to break through.

"Well then," Kaito lets out a whistle, "nice knowing you. Ta ta!"

The trains roll forth once more. Aoko snorts as Kaito dips into an elaborate showman's bow, complete with arm gestures and removal of his hat, if the beret can be classified as such. Soon enough, Aoko can hear the trains rumble around the corner and into the room. It only takes a few seconds for them to travel across her field of vision. She blinks. On each train, garishly decorated with neon pink and lime green stripes, is a festively dressed present. They come along the tracks before her and gently bump into her side. She bends over, not quite surprised but not wholly unsurprised to find that the ropes have vanished. Pushing herself into a sitting position, facing the train caravan she cannot help but raise an eyebrow in Kaito's direction, boy magician still ensconced in his bow. A small smile flickers at the corner of her mouth. "You can't give me my Christmas presents like a normal person, can you?"

Kaito unbends, Cheshire Cat smirk firmly in place. "Where would be the fun in that?" The smirk softens into a fond grin he reserves for her and her alone. The crazy mustache and beret are now only slightly distracting. "Merry Christmas Aoko."

An equally fond smile blossoms across her face. "Merry Christmas Kaito." He opens his mouth but Aoko butts in before he can say a word. "-and before you ask, if the words Jacque, Pierre, Bonapart, or III pass your lips, I will make good on my threat with the rope."

He shuts his mouth. Then, a contemplative gleam enters his eyes. "Promise?" His gaze rakes over Aoko's frame, leaving little to interpretation.

"Kaito!" Blushing from the implication, Aoko jumps up and reaches for the suspiciously mop-shaped package. Swinging at his laughing face, she concludes that yes, it is a mop. No other cleaning utensil has this kind of heft and aerodynamic drag. He's in for it.

She'd ponder why he gave her a mop later. Right now, she has a tacky mustache and beret to wipe off his head.

(Some point later on…)

Aoko is not amused to find the words "Aoko's Boom Stick" engraved upon her new mop hilt. No, she is not happy at all. Kaito, on the other hand, is beside himself with his own cleverness. Because really, is there a better name to be had?

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed it you-know-not-my-name! Now to go off and catch up on a month of fanfiction. Oy vey._


End file.
